


Miracle at Christmas

by loveyoutoobits (lostflares)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Bitty almost dies (sorry about that), M/M, Tailor!Dex, doctor!ransom, homeless!bitty, hurt/comfort but make it mutual pining, lord!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22106302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostflares/pseuds/loveyoutoobits
Summary: Jack's gearing up to spend his first Christmas alone following the disappearance of his parents, the sole heir to their mansion outside of town. A month before the dreaded holiday, Jack is heading home from work when his carriage skids on the icy road, and he hits something... or someone. He ends up hitting Eric, a man who appears to be living on the streets. Eric ends up with a broken leg and a place to stay during the holidays, but things don't end going to plan for anyone.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 12
Kudos: 111
Collections: OMGCP AU Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is set during Victorian London, but it is also the entire Victorian era happening at once. The most research I did was to make sure that the things mentioned at least existed within the era, regardless of when they existed.
> 
> Beautiful art for this fic provided by: [shadowfearieammy](https://shadowfaerieammy.tumblr.com/post/190047054243/submission-for-the-omgcpaubang-fic-miracle-at)
> 
> Each chapter has it's own Charles Dickens quote applied to it just 'cause. For funsies. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "with an aching void in his young heart, and all outside so cold, and bare, and strange" _Dombey and Son_ Charles Dickens

Jack stared out the window of his carriage as the city of London turned into the forest between it and his home. He always disliked going home at the end of a work day, going from the warmth of his friends nearby to the cold mansion that lost its light around this time last year. The only thing waiting for him at home was the stuck up servants that thought they knew him better than his parents had.

Lord Bob Zimmermann and Lady Alicia Zimmermann had disappeared. The couple left on a trip to the countryside nearly a year ago, never to return. This left Jack with the house he had grown up with, the staff in it, and a title he never wanted. In the time they had been gone, Jack had grown increasingly desperate to leave everything behind, leaving the country he’d been in all his life even, but the friends he had were all that kept him there. He left work later every day, until he stayed right up to sunset.

This night, he left a little later than usual. It had already begun to snow, and the twilight added to the poor visibility. Jack could barely see past the road ahead, illuminated by the lanterns hanging on either side.

The carriage hit a patch of ice on the road, and Jack’s driver, Henry, tried his hardest to keep on the road, swerving to the side. Jack had just enough time to see eyes reflecting the lantern light before they hit something.

“Stop the carriage!” Jack banged on the wall separating him and Henry, and he could hear Henry slowing the horses to a stop, but he was already jumping from the carriage and rushing back to where he had seen the person in the lantern light.

In a snowbank off the side of the road was a man dressed in rags staring up in a daze. For a moment Jack thought he was dead, but the man’s eyes shifted to look at him as he approached.

“You hit me,” the man said bluntly, his words a bit slurred. He shifted his position and groaned a bit. Jack frowned in concern, but stayed a bit of distance away, respecting the stranger’s space.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said lamely. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I am definitely not alright… and yeah, I think something’s hurt,” the man shifted again, moving his leg, which caused him to swear under his breath. He laughed, but Jack could hear the pain behind it. “Yeah, definitely hurt.”

“Is it alright if I pick you up?”

“Pardon me?” The man looked a bit scandalized, and Jack could feel his face turn red.

“No-- I mean-- Can I take you to my home?” Jack winced. “I mean… can I take you to my home, so I can call my friend, who is a doctor, to come look at you and help you?”

The man had the gall to smirk at Jack, but it turned into a wince of pain. He looked Jack over with a frown before nodding. Jack carefully moved closer, and with a final look for approval, Jack slid his hand under the knees of the man and placed the other on his back. The man slung his arm over Jack’s shoulder, and Jack lifted him up.

He was light, lighter than he should be. His clothes were torn in places, leaving some of his skin exposed, and he had dirt in the places that were uncovered. Jack figured he was around the same age, maybe a bit younger, than Jack, and a head shorter, but he was fully underweight. Jack lifted him up like he was a rag doll. As such, Jack’s careful movements were a lot quicker than he expected, and he jostled the man and his injured leg, procuring a groan of pain from the man.

“Sorry,” Jack muttered under his breath, and slowed down, slowly placing the man on the adjacent seat, then climbing in after him. He banged on the side of the carriage and Henry pushed the horses into a trot, heading back on the road towards the mansion.

Jack watched the man, who looked out the window. There was sweat on his brow and his arms were crossed over his body, making him look even smaller. Jack frowned and made a mental note to call Justin as soon as he returned home.

The man turned his attention from the window to look at Jack. The lighting within the carriage wasn’t great, but they could still see well enough to talk and know who they were talking to.

“Suppose I should… thank you? Is that the appropriate response for someone almost killing you but instead doesn’t?” The man cracked a small smile, that didn’t cut through the pained look on his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that, Mr…”

“Zimmermann. Uh, Jack. You can call me Jack,” Jack avoided mentioning the title that his name also carried. 

“M’name’s Eric,” The man answered, shifting in his seat with a grimace. “So, Jack. Where are we going?”

“Uh, well, my home? It’s just a ways down the road, and once there I can call Justin-- uh Dr. Oluransi-- and he can look you over and do something about your leg.”

“Must be nice, having a doctor you can call whenever.” Eric closed his eyes, leaning against the side of the carriage. Jack opened his mouth to respond, but Eric had fallen asleep, probably passed out from the pain.

Jack hoped that Justin would know what to do, because Jack sure didn’t. He didn’t think he should kick Eric out once Justin was done. Not in the condition he was in. But he couldn’t ask Eric to stay. He was just a stranger that hit him with a carriage.

They pulled up on the mansion, and Jack hopped out before Henry could open the door for him. Jack reached in and carefully pulled Eric from the carriage, keeping in mind his weight and also the injury to his leg. He stood at the door to the mansion with Eric in his arms, and Eric turned his face towards Jack’s chest in his sleep, a grimace of pain marring his otherwise peaceful face.

The huge double doors opened, and the head butler, Ulysses, stood there with a face full of disdain. “Master Jack.”

“Ulysses, call Justin. We hit this man on the way home,” Jack pushed past the butler, heading towards the grand staircase. He took a few steps up when he heard the clearing of a voice from behind him. Turning, Jack saw Ulysses standing in the open doorways. “What is it, Ulysses.”

“Why call Mr. Oluransi for a street rat like that, sir. Let Henry drop him off on the other side of town, at one of those cheap places. No need to sully the sheets.” The butler stuck up his nose at Jack and Eric, and Jack was glad that Eric was asleep. He could be angry on his behalf.

“ _Dr._ Oluransi is my friend and more than willing to make house calls if you ask, and I am asking. And, I will not send my staff to the bad side of town just because you don’t want to help a man like this. Now, call Rayne up to one of the guest rooms on the same floor as my room. I want her to clean him before Justin gets here.” With that, Jack turned around and continued up the stairs to the third floor.

He chose a room across from his own, down at the end of the hall, and pushed the door open as best as he could. He laid Eric down on the bed carefully. No sooner had he turned towards the door than Rayne, the head housekeeper, bustled into the room.

“Master Jack! Get him off those sheets and into the bathroom, if you will,” she tssked and shook her head. “This is quite the problem you’ve brought into this house, Master Jack. When will you learn.”

“Rayne, I’d ask you not to talk like that, but I know you won’t listen. His leg is hurt, so be careful with it.”

“Alright, Jack. Why don’t you dig through your old clothes for your… smallest items of clothing.” She looked over Eric in disdain, and Jack frowned, but left the room anyways, heading for his room.

He wasn’t sure if any clothes he had now would fit the smaller man. He made a mental note to call Will in the morning. He pulled out a blue button-down that didn’t fit anymore and a pair of slacks that had never fit. He was sure both would be too big for Eric, but they were a start. Taking the clothes, he returned to the room he had chosen for Eric and looked around. He knew Rayne was probably scrubbing every inch of Eric clean and would shoo him from the room if he were to enter.

“Master Jack, just leave the clothes on the bed and leave the room. Let me know when the doctor arrives, that is when I will take my leave.” She called from the bathroom, and Jack jumped, sheepishly placing the clothes. She always seemed to have a 6th sense when it came to him.

He retreated back to his bedroom and pulled out the book he was currently studying for work. He stared at the page in front of him for a few minutes before it occurred to him to actually read it. His mind was preoccupied with what had happened, and the guilt was finally catching up to him. Jack rubbed his face a few times and concentrated on the page. It was another few minutes before Jack gave up. He got up and started pacing, trying to figure out how long it would take, pulling out his pocket watch.

He estimated it had been about ten minutes since he had returned, which meant that it would be about another ten minutes before Justin arrived, and Jack stopped his pacing, frowning in frustration. He returned to the book on his desk and forced himself to read the page. Focusing on it helped pass the time, but he still only got a few pages in before there was a knock on his door.

“Come in.” He stood up, turning towards the door, as Ulysses opened it.

“Master Jack, Dr. Oluransi has arrived,” Ulysses said, before turning and leaving the doctor in the doorway.

“Jack, I swear he hates me.” Justin stepped into the room, his bag bumping against his hip.

“He probably does. He seems to hate everyone,” Jack smiled and stepped in to give Justin a hug, who returned it with one arm.

“So, where is the patient.” Justin turned to business mode quick, and Jack nodded to the room across the hall. The two men crossed into the other bedroom and met Rayne, who had just finished cleaning Eric as best as she could while trying to avoid his legs. She huffed at Jack, and he waited for her tirade.

“Master Jack, you never ask too much of me, but today was different. That man has more layers of dirt than this bed has sheets. I scrubbed as much as I dared, but he will need a much more thorough bath later. Good day, doctor.” She nodded at Justin and swept from the room before he could return the gesture.

“Frankly, I expected as much,” Jack shrugged, before turning to the man on the bed. Eric was still out, but he certainly looked much cleaner. His hair, which Jack had seen as a light brown, was actually a nice blonde shade, and his skin was scrubbed red up to the knee of his left leg, which was still a bit dirty, but clearly Rayne had chosen to give it a once-over. Justin gave a low whistle.

“Yeah, his leg is definitely broken.”

“You can tell just by looking?”

“In this case, yeah. It’s not lying right on the bed. I’m going to need you to hold him down while I set it. I didn’t think to bring any anesthetic.” Justin gestured apologetically, and Jack’s eyes bugged out a bit.

Moving to the side of the bed, Jack held down Eric’s shoulders, and Justin glanced at him with a nod. He counted down, and on one set the leg. Eric woke with a scream and struggled against Jack’s hands, but there was no strength in his movements. Justin quickly finished splinting and wrapping the leg, and with a nod, Jack released his hold on Eric.

“That hurt.” Eric said after a moment, glaring weakly between the two men in the room.

“Jack here didn’t tell me the extent of the injury to your leg and I didn’t think I would need to bring the heavy artillery. Also, you were already out.” Justin rifled through his bag, dealing with the minor scrapes that Eric had, but none were as bad as the leg. Justin finished up, turning to Jack. “He can’t go back outside, Jack. Not like this.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Jack said defensively.

“I knew you weren’t.”

“Um, I’m right here, you know,” Eric said, and the other two looked down at the bed. “What do you mean I can’t go.”

“Your leg is broken. If you were to go out before it was fully healed, you might die.” Justin said matter-of-factly.

Eric looked appropriately pacified, but he still had an air of defiance about him. “How long will it take for my leg to heal?”

“At least six weeks, at most 3 months.”

At that, even Jack started. It was currently mid-November, and the timeline took it past Christmas. Jack was unsure if he wanted a stranger in his house for the holidays, especially with what that time had become.

“Jack, I know what this time of year means to you. But you can’t turn him back to the streets.” Justin placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder, and Jack frowned. Eric looked between the two of them, but remained silent.

“Can’t you take him? He’d be better suited with you,” Jack pleaded, hating the sound of his own voice right now. He was hopeful, and a bit desperate, but Justin shook his head.

“I leave back home on Christmas day, and don’t return back until after the new year. He needs to stay with you. You have the room.” Justin gestured around the room, one of many empty ones within the upper levels of the house.

“But… I have stairs, and there aren’t any rooms on the bottom floor where the kitchens are. How will he eat?” Jack was grasping at straws.

“Assign one of the many servants to him. Come on Jack, just let him stay until he is healed. I’ll come by once before I leave, and again when I return. But other than that, you both are on your own.” Justin nodded at Eric, gave Jack a look, and then left the room, leaving Jack frowning after him.

“So… why don’t you want me to stay?” Eric asked defensively, shifting to a sitting position on the bed, grimacing as his leg moved.

“It’s… a long story,” Jack said, staring after Justin. “I’ll send a servant up with a tray of food, and he’ll take care of you until you can start walking on your own.”

“Alright… Thank you, Jack. For letting me stay, I mean.”

“It’s not like I had any other choice.” Jack sighed, and left the room without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "no varnish can hide the grain of the wood" _Great Expectations_ Charles Dickens

In the morning, Jack sent for Will. After Eric had eaten breakfast, Jack led Will to his room, just as the servant was leaving. Eric sat up as best as he could, giving the bag over Will’s shoulder a curious glance. Will frowned in response.

“Jack, what on earth is he wearing? They look like they are five sizes too big.”

“Uh… well… they are my old clothes, the only things that could possibly fit.”

“They do not,” Will said deadpan, and Jack nodded meekly.

“That’s why I asked you to come. Make him a new wardrobe: three outfits. A casual outfit, a fancy outfit, and a set of sleep clothes.”

“Jack, it will take time. The sleep clothes could be here by the end of the week, the casual outfit longer. The fancy outfit might take a month.”

“That’s fine, he doesn’t need it until Christmas anyway.”

Will gave a low whistle, “He’s here that long?”

“Maybe longer.” 

“I’ll get started right away.”

“What is with you and talking about me like I’m not even here?” Eric said from the bed, and Jack looked over guiltily. 

“You’re going to have to stand up…” Will gestured for Eric to say his name, and he complied. “I have to take your measurements for the clothes.”

“Did Jack tell you I  _ can’t _ stand up?” Eric pulled up the left pant leg to reveal the splinted leg, and Will frowned at Jack.

“No, he did not. Jack, help your charge stand up.”

Jack sighed, and moved to help Eric stand up, allowing the shorter man to support his full weight on Jack. Eric felt like he was barely there in Jack’s arms. Will took his measuring tape and a notebook from his bag and began to take measurements, frowning each time he had to measure on the left side.

Will sighed when he made to measure Eric’s left leg. The splint made for an inaccurate diameter of Eric’s calf and Will grumbled as he did, though he made sure to take into account the splint as well.

“I’ll make it so the pants can fit over the splint, but that it’s not so awkward for you once the splint is off.”

“Thanks Will. Hey, do you think you could also make a pair of crutches for him?”

“I’m a tailor Jack. Woodworking is just a hobby.”

“I’ll double the payment.”

“Done.” Will smiled for the first time since he arrived, and Jack held back a laugh. Will would do anything for extra money. He did woodworking on the side because of it, as well as repair jobs. Rich clients with fifty suits made him enough to live by, but it wasn’t work he enjoyed. Woodworking was. Although Jack was a friend, he would never even think of taking a discount, and was always willing to pay more. His friends deserved everything they ever wanted, and Jack’s way of helping was to pay them more than they asked.

Will finished marking down his measurements, including the ones for the crutches, and bid Eric and Jack farewell, leaving Jack alone with Eric again. Jack carefully helped Eric back into bed, and then turned to leave.

“Jack,” Eric said before he left the room. “You don’t have to do more than you already have for me. I don’t need new clothes, or a fancy outfit at all.”

“You might not, but the staff here won’t have a guest dressed casually at Christmas dinner.”

“Oh. I thought you would rather spend it with your family, not some stranger like me.”

“I would. But you’re all I’ve got.” Jack said, and before he said anything else he regretted, he left the room, leaving Eric with more questions than answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "No one who can read, ever looks at a book, even unopened on a shelf, like one who cannot" _Our Mutual Friend_ Charles Dickens

Eric stared at the door long after Jack had left. What did Jack mean by he was all he’s got? Eric barely registered when the servant came in to take the tray from breakfast and leave the tray for lunch. His stomach lurched at the smell of the food. Everything he had had since last night had been absolutely delicious, but then again, the meal he had eaten before Jack had hit him had been the crust of stale bread he found outside some restaurant in London. It was the largest piece of food he had been able to acquire this winter, so he might as well enjoy the full course meals that Jack’s kitchen staff had carefully prepared for him.

Digging in, he thought about the short conversation he had had with Jack. He couldn’t help but think of his host more and more, and his curiosity was getting the best of him. But it wasn’t his place to ask. Still, he didn’t have anything better to do until his leg healed, and certainly nothing to do until he got those crutches from Will.

He waited for the servant to return for the lunch dishes, but before he could leave, Eric stopped him.

“Hey, could you tell me something?”

The servant turned back around, an impatient look on his face. “What is it, sir?”

“For one, please just call me Eric. Sir sounds way too formal. For another, could you tell me about Jack’s parents?”

“That’s… a loaded question. They went missing a year ago. About a few days before Christmas, even. So you better heal fast and get out of the master’s hair. We have no idea what this time of year will do to him,” The servant warned with wide eyes, and left the room before Eric could respond.

Eric was then left to mull over that revelation. Eric really wished he had a book or something to do, instead of being left alone with his thoughts. He wasn’t sure of the time, though the window showed it was snowing outside. He resolved to himself to ask Jack for something to do to pass the time, if he stopped by before the servant returned with dinner.

Sure enough, not long after he contemplated the thought, there was a knock on his door. After Eric permitted whoever it was to enter, Jack pushed open the door. Eric remembered the knowledge he’d pulled out of the servant, and felt a twinge of guilt. Jack suddenly looked more sullen than annoyed, like Eric had initially thought, his wolfish blue eyes creased in despair rather than anger.

“How are you?”

“Right now, just a tad bored,” Eric said, and Jack’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened into understanding. The little shift in expression caught Eric off guard, though not as much as his next comment.

“Right, makes sense… Can you-- do you read? I have a large library.”

“Yes, I can read. I learned before-- I learned when I was younger.” Eric held back what he was going to say, unsure if he should share that piece of information yet. Running away from home was on par with the information about Jack’s parents--he’d wait until Jack was ready to tell his story before he told his own.

“I can have the servants bring you whichever ones you want.”

“Thank you Jack. Why don’t you choose the first batch. Preferably fiction.” Eric knew he was being hopeful that Jack would visit him more if he was bringing books to him. He was surprised to find he enjoyed the other man’s company.

Jack frowned. “My mother should have some in English… a lot of the books in our library like that are in French.”

Eric had noticed Jack’s accent, one of the aspects he’d liked most about Jack from the beginning, but now he could hear the French behind it. Eric wondered why someone would want to live in England if they had the chance to live in France. Eric had had no choice, leaving with barely the clothes on his back and only able to travel so far on foot with no money and no opportunity to make more.

Jack cleared his throat and Eric realized he had been staring too long. He had the good sense to blush, even if it was more from the slight coloring of Jack’s cheeks than from the fact he had been staring while lost in his thoughts. He averted his eyes, staring down at his hands as the silence between them grew in length and awkwardness. Jack cleared his throat again, shifting on his feet.

“I’ll… go get those books for you. Don’t be afraid to ask for anything else while you are here.” Jack turned to leave.

Eric thought about saying something about what he had learned about Jack’s parents, but he decided against it. It wasn’t his place, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. He instead thought of something else to say. So he turned his thoughts to something else, anything to get Jack to stay awhile longer.

“When do you think I’ll get the crutches from Will?”

“He said he’d be done with the clothes within the next month, which means he could also finish the crutches within that time. If you want, I can ask him to put a rush on the crutches instead?”

“If you’d please. I hate being so immobile. Having to ask a servant for help to the bathroom is not my style.” Eric smiled at Jack, who caught the tone and had the good sense to look embarrassed.

“Of course. I’ll send him the message.” Jack nodded in a sort of bow, and Eric blushed. He wasn’t used to such kind treatment from anyone, and he certainly wasn’t used to such treatment from someone so much richer than him. Jack certainly wasn’t like anyone else he had met, begrudging care or not.

Jack left the room, leaving Eric alone with his thoughts again, but it wasn’t much longer until the servant returned with a stack of books that he placed on the bedside table. He was a bit disappointed that Jack hadn’t come with the books himself, though he hadn’t really expected him to. The servant left just as quickly as he came, and Eric reached forward to take the top book. Charles Dickens’  _ A Christmas Carol _ . A new release that he’d hadn’t had the chance to read yet. A bit ironic, considering the time of year and where he was.

Eric thought about Jack’s Christmas past with his parents disappearing; his Christmas present, with Eric; and his Christmas future, in which Eric ignored his first thought. That it would also be with him. He shoved that thought as far in the back of his mind as possible. There was no way that would happen. Sure, Jack was attractive, but there was no chance he thought the same way about Eric, or about any man for that matter. Absolutely none. Nope.

Eric opened the book, reading the first page over and over again. His mind kept turning back to that stupid thought about the future. He had known Jack for two days, his mind should not be going there.

He futilely tried to keep reading, but it wasn’t working. He tossed the book aside and sat staring at his ceiling instead. He heard a knock at the door, and the servant came in with the dinner tray. Eric hadn’t expected it to be so late, but when he looked out the window it was twilight.

He poked at the food for a bit, annoyed with himself thanks to the thoughts from earlier. He closed his eyes and tried to think of a different reason to have them. He settled on the obvious: Jack had a large empty home and Eric had no home. He just wanted a warm place to stay for future Christmases. That was all.

Eric sighed with relief, glad he had figured out a rational reason for that thought, and dug into the food. He wished he could find his way into the kitchen, to send his compliments to the cook, the food was so delicious. Eric had always wanted to be a cook, but his family had frowned on that, saying it was a girl’s job. He still tried to learn as much as he could from those who would let him. Maybe the cook here would let him help, and maybe Eric would even try to get a job working for Jack once his leg was healed. That way, he could have a home and a job all in one go.

He hoped for his crutches to arrive quickly. The quicker he got mobile, the quicker he could figure out how to climb down the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "the walk was not only a comfortless, but most uncertain one" _The Pickwick Papers_ Charles Dickens

It was a few days later when Will brought the crutches over, as well as the sleep clothes.

“Here, these are for you. I should have the casual outfit finished by the end of next week at the latest.” Will handed the clothes over first, but Eric’s eyes were on the crutches. Will noticed the stare and cracked a rare smile. “These were relatively easy to make, I hope they work out for you.”

Eric sat on the edge of his bed, hands on the finely crafted wood. They were well sanded and comfortable to the touch, and Will had wrapped a thick fabric over the arm holds for a cushion.

“Thank you Will. These should work nicely. You have a knack with woodworking,” Eric said, and he caught Will’s smile out of the corner of his eye. Steeling himself, Eric shifted his position and pulled himself up, being careful not to put any weight on his left leg. He slipped the crutches beneath his arms and stood there for a moment. Will watched him carefully, but the crutches didn’t collapse at all, and he nodded in satisfaction.

“They should work just fine then. I’ll leave you now, I have to get back to work.” Will nodded again and left Eric to his newfound freedom.

Eric hobbled out of the room, getting used to the crutches and the stunted movements he had from them. He walked up and down the hall, from the base of the stairs back to his room. His movements got smoother as he kept at it, but it also tired him out quicker. He went back to his room and sat back on the bed, a tad out of breath. From the effort or from the happiness he felt from having the freedom to move on his own again, he wasn’t sure.

He carefully placed the crutches against the wall, starting when he heard a knock on the door. He had left it open when he came back in, so he was surprised to see Jack there.

“Come in, Jack,” Eric said with a small smile. Jack nodded awkwardly, entering the room through the open door.

“I see Will brought the crutches.”

“Yes, they work like a charm. Thanks so much for having him make them for me.” Eric smiled widely then, and Jack oddly frowned in return.

“Of course.”

“I’m thinking of trying the stairs soon. Maybe go down a few steps and go back up, just to see that I can. I want to work up to being able to go down to the ground floor, to the kitchens and the library and, well, anywhere else.”

“That’s great. I’m glad.” Jack did not look glad. To Eric, he sort of looked mad, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Something must be weighing on his mind.

“You know, Jack, I feel bad for staying here with no reciprocation, so I was thinking, maybe once I’m healed, I’ll join your staff, and I can work for free for a while to pay off this debt, just as long as I can have a bed to return to at the end of the day,” Eric said. He stared at his hands. Jack was a gracious host, but he was still worried that the minute Eric got his leg back that Jack would kick him out immediately. 

“I would never ask you to do that,” Jack said with such earnesty that Eric looked at him in surprise. There was a serious look on Jack’s face, and Eric was confused.

“I can’t keep living here without anything to return for your kindness. You are taking such good care of me, I would feel terrible.”

“It’s my fault you are even here, Eric. I don’t want you to feel obligated to pay me back. You are free to stay here until you are back on your feet, literally. But I won’t ask you to stay longer.”

Eric felt like he had been punched in the gut, even if just a little bit. Jack probably wouldn’t want him to stay, it was a selfish idea anyways. He had no right to stay either.

“I understand.”

Jack looked at him in confusion, but a moment later his eyes widened a fraction. His face reddened a tad, and Eric looked at him curiously.

“That’s not what I meant,” Jack said, but before Eric could ask what he  _ did _ mean, he turned and left the room, once again leaving Eric with so many questions.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There was a long hard time when I kept far from me the remembrance of what I had thrown away when I was quite ignorant of its worth" _Great Expectations_ Charles Dickens

Jack avoided Eric for a short time after Eric got the crutches, but Jack noticed Eric out and about more. Like he said he would, he tried the stairs, a few steps at a time. It took him only a few more days before he could get to the second floor with little difficulty, and Jack was glad he was able to be more mobile. He couldn’t imagine being so cooped up like that.

It took Eric another week before he could reach the ground floor without problems. It had been two and a half weeks since Eric had entered Jack’s life by surprise, and Jack was still not quite used to his presence in the empty mansion. Things were somehow more lively than ever before. Eric had this effect on some of the staff. Jack could see some who gave him side eyes whenever he ambled past, but there were even more who gave Eric smiles that he matched. The cook was just about ready to adopt Eric when he stopped by the first time, and the servants were glad to be relieved of some of the jobs they had been given in the first week.

On the first night of December, Jack sat at the dining table alone, staring down the length of the table. The plate in front of him was barely touched. His mind was preoccupied, focused on the seats his parents used to sit in. He frowned, then pushed back from the table, standing up abruptly.

“Sir?” One of the servants stepped into the room at the noise of his chair on the ground, a concerned look on his face. Jack frowned deeper, but more so at the room than at the servant.

“I will be right back. Do not move my plate.”

“Of course, sir.” The servant returned to the side room he had come from, and Jack left the dining room from the main door. He stopped at the base of the grand staircase, staring up the length of steps to the third floor landing.

He took a deep breath and climbed the stairs, stopping just outside Eric’s door, hand poised to knock. He pulled it back in hesitation, but resolved himself. His knock sounded too forceful to his own ears, but he heard Eric’s cheerful response and pushed open the door.

“Jack! I wasn’t expecting you. Aren’t you eating dinner?” Eric’s own plate sat on the side table, and he had a book in his hands. Jack noticed with surprise that it was one of the cook’s books.

“Oh, well, yes. But, I was wondering, if you would like to join me? Now that you’re more mobile.” Jack mentally kicked himself.

“Oh. Is it alright?” Eric put his book down, looking a little bewildered.

“Please. I don’t want to be alone,” Jack said quietly. He looked away, staring out the window. He felt uncomfortable asking, but he felt even more uncomfortable sitting at that empty table.

“Alright, I’ll come down. But, you have to tell me, Jack.” Eric’s eyes seemed to bore straight into Jack’s soul, and Jack flinched.

“Alright,” He sighed. He looked back at Eric, who was pulling himself up to standing with the crutches. “Oh, I’ll carry your plate down for you.”

“Thank you Jack, that would be a great help.”

Jack took the tray from the table and the pair of men left the room, moving slowly down the stairs, Jack matching Eric’s pace, unwilling to leave the other man behind. December had never felt so empty before last year, and he was glad for Eric’s company.

They reached the dining room, and Jack sat back in his seat. Eric sat across from him, leaning the crutches against the wall behind him. He gave an appreciative glance around the room.

“I can see why this would feel lonely.”

“That’s… not exactly it.” Jack picked at his food. It had gone a bit cold, but he hadn’t the appetite anyways. He took a bite, chewing instead of talking.

They ate in silence for a while, Jack content with the company. He could feel Eric’s eyes on him the entire time, but he didn’t look up from his plate until it was empty. He stared at the empty plate after that, until Eric cleared his throat.

“Jack, I know,” Eric said, a tinge of guilt in his voice. “One of the servants told me, on the second day I was here.”

Jack’s head shot up in surprise, and it was Eric’s turn to look down at his plate. Jack sighed.

“Last year, a couple of days before Christmas, my parents left on what they called a day trip. I haven't seen them since. This house and the staff… I haven't warmed to how cold it's been without them here.” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, but Eric hung on every word. “I haven't had to deal with the anniversary of their disappearance yet. I don't… want to deal with it alone.”

“What about your friends? Like Justin and Will.”

“They all go home for the holidays, to various places. Justin will stop by on Christmas eve to look you over, then he'll go. Will leaves a week before, everyone else has their own lives and their own plans. I can't ask them to be here with me.” Jack shook his head. He didn't mention how his friends had asked if he wanted them there, and how he told them he would be fine. Maybe having someone else in the house made it hard to  _ be _ fine.

“Thank you for telling me Jack,” Eric said earnestly. He opened his mouth to say something else, but hesitated and closed it again. Jack didn't think much of it.

“Eric, why don't you join me for dinner from now on? It would be good for you to get out of the room more.” Jack tried to sound cheerful and not hopeful, also pushing the request as something good for Eric as opposed to good for Jack. Even after the conversation they just had.

“I’d like that Jack.” Eric smiled, and Jack tried not to look so grateful.

“I will see you tomorrow, then.” Jack pushed back from the table and nodded to Eric, leaving the room. Jack wasn't so used to baring his soul, and he had to leave as quick as he could. Eric nodded back, and the last thing Jack saw before he left the room was Eric with a contemplative look on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A silent look of affection and regard when all other eyes are turned coldly away" _The Pickwick Papers_ Charles Dickens

The next few nights, they met for dinner and talked about little things, nothing as serious as the first night, nothing too revealing either. Jack noticed a few times a couple of the staff talking amongst themselves, giving glances back to the table, but he didn't think much of it.

He was growing to like Eric. The smaller man was friendly and funny and smart, ticking several of Jack’s boxes, and Jack was finding it hard to keep a large distance the more they talked. 

Eric began to spend more time downstairs than in his room and began to take breakfast with Jack as well. Jack continued to have lunch at work, but he was beginning to increasingly look forward to waking up in the morning and eating dinner at night. Eric was easy to talk to, and Jack couldn't help but feel himself being drawn in.

It had been a month since Jack hit Eric, but already it felt like Eric had always been there. Jack let himself get closer than he would have ever tried before. It would be good to have some happiness in this month as opposed to the sadness he got last year.

It wouldn't hurt to try. The only thing Jack expected was a rejection of affection but acceptance of friendship. It wouldn't hurt to let Eric stay if he wanted to.

During dinner one night, a week before Christmas, Jack thought to take his chance. He hoped he hadn't missed the clues from Eric. He was clueless most times, but he couldn't deny the glances he had gotten or the lingering touches.

They ate in silence for a moment, and Jack took the time to work up the nerve to ask Eric if he wanted to stay. Better to have the chance to get closer and know for sure. He cleared his throat a couple of times, unable to get the right words. Eric stared at him for a moment with curiosity.

“Jack? Is there something you want to say?”

“... Yes.” Jack cleared his throat again and put down his knife and fork. He stared at his plate, though he could feel Eric’s eyes on him. “I was wondering, or rather, I am offering, if you want, for you to stay here. After your leg has healed.”

Jack kept his eyes trained on his plate, and he couldn’t bear the feeling of the stare from Eric. It was like his eyes were boring a hole into his soul. Eric reached his hand across the table, lightly touching Jack’s hand. At the touch, Jack looked up, staring into Eric’s eyes.

“Yes, I would want that very much.” Eric smiled genuinely, and Jack matched it on a smaller scale. His shoulders relaxed, a small weight lifting that he didn’t know he was holding. They stayed like that for a moment longer, staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands lightly.

A sound from the side room where the servants stayed during dinner shook them from their reverie, and Eric took his hand away with a clearing of his throat. He smiled shyly at Jack before returning to his plate, and Jack blushed, doing the same. They finished dinner that night in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I will honour Christmas in my heart" _A Christmas Carol_ Charles Dickens

Eric woke up the next morning feeling like he had woken up on clouds. He was going to live in Jack’s home. They had agreed to it the night before. Jack had been the one to ask. Eric got out of bed and dressed as quickly as he could, and hobbled down the stairs to breakfast.

Jack was sitting in his usual spot at the table, and Eric couldn’t help but notice him visibly perk up when Eric walked in. Eric smiled to himself and moved to his seat across from Jack. Jack looked happier and more relaxed than he had the past couple of weeks since Eric had first joined him for dinner. Some type of weight had dropped, Eric could tell.

They talked about little things, like what Jack was up to at work, and the things Eric had read. It was a breezy conversation, and Eric felt relaxed as well.

“Today is the last day I have to go to work before the museum closes for the holidays. It will open up again after Christmas, and then close on New Year’s Eve the following week, opening back up on New Year’s Day. You’ll have my undivided attention.” Jack smiled easily, and Eric returned it. They had gotten closer over the past few weeks, and it was so much easier to talk to Jack than it had been in November right after the accident. The divide that had been there was seeming to melt away day by day.

“What will you do, here at home?”

“What I always do, read, research. Even if I don’t have to go in, my work never stops.” Jack’s smile turned rueful, though Eric knew that Jack enjoyed his work as a curator. Eric had seen how many books on history there were in the library, they filled up several bookshelves.

“If you want, my driver Henry has offered to drive you into town if you want to get anything for yourself.” Jack switched the conversation, catching Eric by surprise. “If there’s anything you need, you can always ask me, but I don’t want to restrict you to the house if I don’t have to.”

“What about what the doctor said, about my leg?”

“He said that you can’t stay out in the cold, but he never said you couldn’t move around in it. I think you should be fine, especially if you go into stores every now and then.”

Eric’s heart sank a little. He had been excited at the prospect of going to London, but there was the obvious problem. “I don’t have any money, Jack. What would I have to do in London?”

“I can give you a sort of allowance. For anything you want. Don’t hesitate to ask for more,” Jack said readily, and Eric was taken aback. Jack was just willing to give him money. Of course, Jack had gotten to know Eric better over the time they’ve spent together, but he also didn’t know why Eric had been living on the streets before then. If Jack gave Eric a large sum of money, there was almost nothing stopping Eric from taking it and leaving, never to return. Jack was placing a lot of money in Eric’s hands, as well as a lot of trust.

“You don’t have to do that. I can stay here until my leg is better.”

“No, I  _ want _ to do it. Don’t worry.” Jack smiled again, and Eric matched it, though he didn’t feel it. He could understand what Jack was saying, but there was something nagging in the back of Eric’s head, saying not to take the money anyway.

Before Eric could object again, Jack got up and left the room, leaving Eric alone in the dining room in confusion. Eric thought about following him, but Jack returned before Eric could grab the crutches. In his hand was a small pouch that clinked with coins.

“Here, this is 100 pounds. That should be enough for anything you want to buy in town.”

“Jack… that is far too much. I really don’t need this.” Eric stared at the coin pouch. 100 pounds was more money than he had seen in the last few years of his life. He had no idea what he could even fathom buying with that much money.

“Consider it for the entire week. You don’t have to spend it all in one sitting.” Jack looked a little sheepish, and Eric could understand what was going through his mind. 100 pounds was nothing for someone who probably had over 1 million pounds in his possession. 

“Alright, I’ll take it. But please, don’t give me any more for awhile. Longer than a week. I mean it Jack.” Eric gave a hard look, but Jack nodded at his hands instead of matching Eric’s eyes.

Eric took the coin pouch from Jack with a smile. Jack matched it, though his seemed a bit more forced, and then nodded towards the door.

“I have to go into work, but once Henry returns, he can take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

Jack nodded again, glancing back at Eric before he left the room. Eric remained seated for a while, looking at the coin pouch. He reached out and opened it, reaching his hand in and pulling a few pounds out. He eyed them, feeling them in his hands. Shaking his head, he returned them to the pouch, placed the pouch within the pocket of his pants, grabbed the crutches, and moved to the stairs, beginning the laborious journey up.

It was an hour later when Eric decided to go into London himself. He wasn’t sure exactly where Jack worked, but he planned on avoiding it so he can shop for a gift for him, to thank him for taking care of Eric and for letting Eric stay. He also figured he should get Justin and Will gifts for their help. 100 pounds would be plenty, Eric was sure. He sent the butler to call Henry over, and Eric caught the disdainful look the butler shot before he turned and complied. 

When Henry arrived, he had a bright smile on his face.

“Master Eric! It’s good to see you properly on your feet, with assistance. I’m dreadfully sorry for hitting you that night.” Henry gave a small bow.

“Please, just call me Eric. It’s alright, I don’t blame you or Jack at all. The road wasn’t great that night, and neither was the weather.”

“Of course, Eric. Where do you want to go today?”

“Into London, I want to buy gifts for those that helped me.”

“Am I on the list?” Henry gave a kind smile, and Eric matched it easily.

“You’ll have to wait and see, Mr. Henry.” Eric winked, and Henry laughed heartily. Henry helped Eric into the carriage, then drove Eric into London, stopping in a nice shopping district filled with stores Eric had only ever been able to dream about entering before now. The stores back home paled in comparison, and Eric felt distinctly out of place, despite dressing and looking the part.

Henry helped Eric down from the carriage, and Eric looked around. He had no idea where to start or how to start.

“Eric, would you like me to accompany you?” Henry stepped closer, closing the carriage door. Eric shot him a grateful look, giving a small nod.

“I don’t know where to start. Or, well, what someone like Jack would like.” Eric kept his eyes focused on the stores in front of him.

“If you are searching for Master Jack, then might I suggest that store there." Henry pointed at a small shop that sat nestled between two extravagant storefronts. By comparison, the shop Henry indicated was a rundown dump. Eric shot a skeptical look at the driver. "Now, it might not look like much, and you might not believe me when I say it, but Master Jack is a man of simple tastes and a passion for history. That antique store? The perfect place for him."

Eric looked at the store with a new appreciation, and hobbled up to the store with Henry trailing behind. The inside of the antique shop was filled wall to wall with antiquities that Eric had a hard time maneuvering around, though he waved off most of Henry's offers to help. He looked at everything, hoping something would jump out at him. He passed by stacks of mismatched swords, globes that were far bigger than his head, even a full suit of armor. Nothing stuck out, and he had almost reached the back of the store. That's when he saw it: it looked like a large box, but the price tag labeled it as a camera. Jack seemed the type to be able to stand for hours getting the perfect image.The price was a hefty chunk of his 100 pounds, but he figured he’d be able to get everyone their gifts after the one for Jack.

“Henry, would you be a dear and grab the camera for me and bring it up to the till? Of course, I was looking for smaller things than that as a gift, but it felt right for him.” Eric pulled the cost from his stash, handing it to Henry, who took it and the camera with care.

Eric took the time that Henry spent paying to maneuver back to the front of the store, stepping out into the brisk London air, shivering as he did so. Henry soon followed, the camera safely wrapped up in a box, which he placed within the carriage.

“Shall we ride to the next store, or would you like to try walking instead?” Henry held the door open, and Eric looked between the open door and the stretch of stores.

“Let’s walk.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again" _Nicholas Nickleby_ Charles Dickens

Eric spent more time in the parlors and library now that he was more mobile. Each morning he would wake up, get dressed, then hobble down the stairs to breakfast, where Jack would greet him with a smile that always seemed far too soft. They would chat easily about nothing, and Eric had Jack’s undivided attention now that he didn’t have to go into work until Christmas.

After breakfast, they would head to the library, continuing to chat until they reached the large room full of books. Jack would sit at the desk and work, while Eric would take one of the comfy chairs, propping his foot up on the ottoman, and read the next book in his stack. He’d read almost all the English books he could find in the library, though Jack promised there were more. He’d found a cookbook buried on a shelf, and had taken to reading that one, wishing he could bake something nice for Jack. As a thank you.

A little less than a week from Christmas, he brought it up during their comfortable silence. He had reached a recipe he was dying to try and dying for Jack to taste.

“Jack?” He spoke softly so as not to startle him, though the silence had been so complete that Jack still jumped slightly at the noise. He looked over to where Eric was sitting, an unspoken question written on his face. Eric cleared his throat a couple times, before just diving right in.

“I’d like to make you something, if that would be alright with you.” He stared down at the book in his hand, only looking up when the silence drew out uncomfortably long. He was met with Jack’s confusion, to which he showed him the cover of the cookbook, and understanding dawned on his face.

“Oh of course, if you give the recipe to the cook, he can make it no problem--”

“No Jack. I want to make it. I… I used to bake with my mother, and I miss it.” Eric managed to maintain eye contact through the little white lie, which is how he saw the softened look and slight blush on Jack's face.

"I'll speak to the cook then. I'm sure he would allow you to use his kitchen and ingredients."

Eric felt horrified at the prospect, and tried to insist on going into town with Henry to buy what he needed, but Jack wouldn't have it and he left the room faster than Eric could follow. Eric sat in mock annoyance, but he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He wrote down the recipe on a piece of paper so as not to ruin the book. He was excited to bake again.

Jack came back into the library moments later with the ok from the cook, though Eric couldn’t decide if the cook had given the ok because Jack had been the one asking or if it was because he genuinely was ok with it. Eric went to the kitchens himself just to be sure, and the cook welcomed him in with open arms. The hustle and bustle of the place at the moment was less than around mealtimes, but more than Eric expected.

"I don’t want to be in the way. Are you sure I can use the kitchens and the ingredients I need?" Eric looked around as one servant swept across the room, a stack of plates piled high in her hands.

"Of course, of course, mon petit ami! Master Jack said you wanted to make him something, no? If it is for the young master, I mind not!" The cook was loud and animated, and Eric felt his energy was infectious. 

"Thank you so much sir! I really appreciate it. I haven’t been able to bake in ages. I’ll be sure to make some for you and the rest of the kitchen staff.” Eric smiled brightly, and the cook laughed a loud thunderous laugh.

“Ah non do not call me sir. You, Eric, should have always been calling me Augustin. You praise my cooking with every bite, and that earns you my name. Use as much as you like, we in the kitchens are here to help.” Augustin gestured to Eric’s leg, “Especially for you, my one-legged friend.”

Augustin let out another great booming laugh, and Eric made promises to return later to make his project. He left the kitchens in high spirits, thinking of all the things he might be able to do in Jack’s house while he lived here. Eric moved slowly up the stairs, looking forward to his time in the kitchen.

“... see that?” The voice of the housekeeper trailed up the stairs behind Eric, and Eric stopped his effort. “It’s exactly like I said.”

“You might just be right, Rayne. I didn’t think Master Jack would fall for it, but it’s clear he has.” The butler’s voice responded. They weren’t making any effort to keep their voices down, though it was hard to say if they knew Eric was there.

“That lowlife seeks to make something for our master.” There was a gasp from the housekeeper. “What if he poisons it! That wretch would have been better off dead when Jack hit him a month ago.”

“If poor Master Jack were to die, or even just get sick from eating whatever that boy plans on making, he might just get robbed dry.” The butler sounded genuinely worried.

“Oh yes, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the money Jack had given that sot went into purchasing such nefarious instruments!” Rayne was indigent, her voice only rising in pitch.

There were some “indeeds” and general agreement from the butler, but Eric hardly heard the rest of the conversation. He wasn’t sure if it really was as bad as it sounded, but Eric knew one thing. He couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t poison Jack, at all, but the two head servants believed it, and he figured Jack would believe them over him. Especially since Jack had known them his whole life, and had only known Eric for a month.

He couldn’t bear to be thrown out by Jack for something he didn’t do. Eric resigned himself to leaving on his own. He climbed the rest of the way to the room he had been staying in, and looked around at the meager belongings he had acquired. There were the clothes off his back, the sleep clothes, the fancy outfit Will had finished only the day before. There was still a stack of books in his room, though they were his favourites, and the ones he read before bed.

The book on top was Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. The first book he had read in Jack’s home. Eric thought of its story, how unlike Scrooge Jack had been. He really couldn’t stay, to see the disappointment sure to be there, as he was forced to kick Eric out for trying to kill him. Eric shook his head at the thought. His sweep of the room revealed the stack of gifts he’d bought for those that had helped him, Jack’s by far the biggest. And then his eyes landed on something else. He guessed Rayne hadn’t taken them from his room after he got his new wardrobe, but folded somewhat messily were the clothes Jack had given him when he first arrived at the mansion. The shirt that hung loosely on his frame and the pants that were two sizes too big for everything but his leg.

He made his decision. Slipping out of the clothes Will had tailored just for him, Eric pulled on Jack’s hand-me-downs again. They fit better, probably thanks to Eric eating decently for the first time since he ran away from home in the first place. He thought about how he was running away again, and chuckled ruefully. He was getting pretty good at running away. He folded the clothes that Jack had had made for him, lying them on the bed. He straightened the books on the side table and made sure the stack of gifts were visible. He gave a glance at the nice suit that Will had made, in a gorgeous deep red color, and was disappointed he’d never get to wear it.

The last thing Eric did was take out the pouch of money Jack had given him. There was still a dozen or so pounds left, probably enough for Eric to live on if he played his cards right for awhile. But he didn’t want to keep Jack’s money. Not if those two thought he was aiming to rob Jack blind.

So he placed the pouch on top of the stack of books. There would be no doubt he’d left every last penny, thanks to the stack of gifts in the corner. The only things he took that Jack had given him were the crutches, since he still needed to walk, and the poorly fitting clothes that Jack hadn’t spent any money on to give him. Maybe then the housekeeper and the butler would see he wasn’t some evil thief.

Eric took one last look around the room that had been his for the last month. It was the best room he’d ever stayed in, and probably would ever stay in again, but he’d give it up in a heartbeat to make sure Jack didn’t think him a murderer or a thief. Eric left his room, closing the door behind him, leaving that part of his life behind. He took the stairs as fast as he could, and was out the door before anyone saw him leave. He really was getting good at running away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Some people are nobody's enemies but their own" _Oliver Twist_ Charles Dickens

Between breakfast and lunch, Jack had found it hard to focus on anything except what exactly it might be that Eric planned to make for him. He hadn’t seen the recipe, and by the time he had gotten back to the library, Eric had closed the recipe book and was back to reading a piece of fiction. The time they spent together in the library was Jack’s favourite, silence included, so he hadn’t asked. Plus, he was kind of excited for the surprise.

When lunch rolled around, Jack trooped into the dining room and waited for Eric to show up. Eric had put his foot down about Jack walking him to and from meals, and Jack had agreed meekly, though he had found early on that he had enjoyed the other man’s company. So Jack had taken to waiting in the dining room instead.

When Eric didn’t show up after ten minutes, Jack sent a servant to check on him. When the servant came back shaking his head, Jack began to think something was wrong. It had only been a couple hours since Jack had last seen Eric, and there wasn’t any way that something could have happened to Eric in those two hours. Could there have been?

Jack didn’t wait to find out, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached Eric’s door. He knocked softly, hoping that maybe Eric was just asleep. But with no answer, he resorted to calling his name, until his concern drove him to open the door.

He wasn’t expecting nothing. Well, there were still things in the room, but there was no Eric. Still hanging from the dresser was the suit Will had made for Christmas dinner. In the corner of the room were a stack of wrapped gifts, one large box and several smaller ones. On the bedside table there was a stack of books, as well as the pouch of money Jack had given him. But what threw Jack off the most was the neatly folded pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. These were the everyday items that he had been wearing only this morning.

Jack didn’t know what to think. His brain had short-circuited. Eric was gone, and he couldn’t understand why. The only thing Eric had taken it seemed were the crutches. Jack had the first thought that Eric was naked, since he had left all the clothes, but then he remembered the clothes he had given him first. Nothing made sense to Jack.

“Why, Master Jack! What on earth are you doing?” Rayne had seemed to sneak up on him, but he didn’t even flinch. He was frozen in shock. “Oh, what, has the vagabond left?”

“Rayne. Do you know where Eric went?” Jack kept staring around the room, looking for any signs or clues that Eric hadn’t just up and walked out.

“Oh no, I haven’t the foggiest.” She seemed disdainful, and Jack sighed. He figured she’d had something to do with it. She had never seemed to like Eric from the moment he entered the house.

“Rayne, if you know something, I’d like to hear it.” He knew the tone of voice he used wasn’t one she was expecting or had ever heard directed at her, but he was growing desperate. It was effective, and she gulped back her disdain.

“Well it’s good riddance! The butler and I had discussed only hours ago that he had probably purchased poison to give you, Master Jack, when he made his piece this evening. If he had overheard, it was by no fault of ours, I assure you.” Rayne seemed more unsure of her thoughts as she shared them with Jack, but Jack had barely heard her past poison.

Over the past month, it had never seemed to Jack that Eric would have any inclinations. He couldn’t even think of a reason why Eric would even want to poison Jack, but clearly Rayne and his butler had other ideas. His anger mounted against his despair, and he spun on her with such force in his movement that she reacted as if he had slapped her, though he never touched her.

“You better hope we find him alive. Rather than just have your jobs, I’ll--” Jack took a deep shaky breath and shook his head. There was no time for drastic actions. “Call the servants together. We’re going to find Eric and bring him home. And we need to do it fast.”

It took some time for everyone to stop what they were doing, as there was a necessity to douse flames and cover pots so as not to burn down the mansion. It took some more time for everyone to put on winter wear so that they wouldn’t freeze in the snow as Eric surely was. Thinking about Eric’s situation made Jack so antsy that he nearly forgot his own coat until Henry kindly reminded him. As the tens of servants stood before him, Jack reminded himself that Eric couldn’t have gotten far on his leg, even if it had been some five hours since he’d left the house.

“Find him at any cost. Any that find him will be rewarded with a promotion to butler or head housekeeper, or some other reward if you’d rather. Just… find him.” Leaving no chance for questions, Jack swept out into the cold December evening, hoping he’d be able to find Eric. The panic that had set in when he found out that Eric had run away had only been matched in intensity by Jack realizing how fond he was of the other man.

Jack walked the long road to town, believing it was the only path that would make sense, though he had sent his servants in all directions in hopes that they’d find Eric somewhere before dark. The winter meant that darkness fell earlier though, and Jack had to turn back to the mansion before he reached London, hoping against hope that one of the servants had found him.

But when he returned to the mansion, none of the servants would meet Jack’s eye, and he knew they hadn’t had any better luck. Jack’s panic was overflowing. He stood frozen in the entryway, trying to think about what to do. By this time, Eric had been gone for seven hours. With his injury, he couldn’t have gotten far, but still none of them had found him. Jack cursed the nightfall, the only thing stopping him from continuing his search.

A gasp from one of the maids made him look out the window, only to be horrified at the sight of snow falling. It was cold, dark, and snowing, and if Eric wasn’t found soon, he wouldn’t be found alive. At that moment, Jack knew that he would do anything for Eric. He ordered the lighting of lanterns and a continued search, and prayed that Eric would last the night.

When they returned back to the mansion, the snow had gotten too heavy to travel through. As much as he hadn’t wanted to, Jack called off the search for the night, and the servants were relieved. Jack had no sense of relief, only a mounting case of worry. They had gone in all directions, he thought, but they hadn’t come across Eric or any signs that the other man had gone anywhere at all. It was almost like he had disappeared, or never existed at all. 

Jack shook his head at the thought. His servants would never have let him maintain a delusion like this. Eric was out there somewhere, and he’d search all through to Christmas if he had to. As it was, he was exhausting himself with worry, which kept him awake, staring out into the white night.

In the morning, it was much the same. They searched in all directions, combing through the heavy snow. Into the woods behind the mansion, on the side of the road, in the old abandoned houses. Nowhere they looked showed any signs of Eric, and Jack fell deeper into despondency. He hadn’t been aware when Eric was there how much his happiness had been tied to spending time with him. Now that he was gone, Jack’s sense of melancholy over the holiday season had grown worse. Even worse than the year before, when his parents had disappeared.

“Master Jack. It’s Christmas Eve. I’m afraid that, since it’s been three days, we won’t find him.” Henry spoke up, probably the designated bearer of bad news amongst the servants. Jack knew he was right. They had searched for three days straight, and they hadn’t seen even a single hint that Eric was even out there. 

Jack turned to look at his faithful driver, who had a sad look to his face. Henry had quite liked Eric, Jack knew, which is why Jack had felt comfortable leaving Eric in his capable hands. Jack looked to all his servants, and he felt the same heaviness that he had felt when his parents had disappeared. In the month that Eric had been in the mansion, light had found its way back into the fold, where the servants had smiles on their faces and a sense of purpose. This heaviness that showed itself now weighed more than Jack expected. He didn’t want to give up on finding Eric. He didn’t want to give up on happiness again.

“I know Henry. But we cannot give up on him. This mansion seems so cold and distant when he’s not here, don’t you think?” Jack smiled sadly, turning to look out the window. The snow had melted some, and it wasn’t as cold as it had been the last few days.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky today. Eric’s a smart man, he could be holed up in some shelter we wouldn’t ever come across.” Jack turned to look his servants in the eye, and he saw the exhaustion and hopelessness on their faces. Only Henry seemed to understand, and he gave a quick nod.

“We’ll look everywhere we’ve looked and in between. We’re bringing him home for Christmas.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "That vague kind of penitence which holidays awaken next morning" _The Old Curiosity Shop_ Charles Dickens

Eric was cold. He had never felt so cold in his life. Both body and soul had been frozen, by the words he’d heard when he left, and by the frozen snowy winter that had surrounded him. Since leaving Jack’s mansion, he had stumbled along the road where had first met Jack. He had stopped around that spot, shook his head to shake the bittersweet memories, and left the road behind, effectively leaving whatever life he possibly could have had behind.

When it had begun to snow, he had looked for a bit of shelter, but it was hard to move around on his leg, and he was left with fewer options. Finally, he came across someone’s cellar that had been left open, and he slunk down the steps to escape the snow. In the morning, he had a tough time leaving due to the snowfall, but he managed to dig his way out and move forward. 

He wasn’t sure exactly where he was in relation to Jack’s mansion. He had taken a lot of turns when it was snowing, and even if he had wanted to, and he really wish he could, he couldn’t find his way back to Jack. The snow had effectively erased his tracks, and he wasn’t familiar with the area he had found himself in. 

So he had kept moving. As good as he was at running away, he wasn’t someone to give up, and he knew that the weather was too cold for him to give up anyways. It wasn’t until nightfall the next day that Eric was regretting not taking any of the gifts Jack had gotten him. Like the warm clothes. As the temperature dropped, the coat he had left hanging neatly in his room kept popping into his mind.

“No, I had to leave it behind. It would be wrong of me to take advantage of Jack’s kindness while I ran from it.” He had muttered to himself, but it was tough to get the words out when his teeth kept chattering. He resolved himself to keep moving. As long as he kept moving he wouldn’t feel the cold, and moving with the crutch meant a workout

He wasn’t sure when he had stopped moving. While had managed to find shelter to sleep in during the night when he grew too tired to move, he had always gotten up in the morning to keep moving. So he wasn’t sure when he stopped moving during the day. He knew it had only been a few days since he had left Jack’s mansion, and that he was turned around enough that he wasn’t sure if he was heading for London or some other corner of England anymore, and that he hadn’t eaten anything since he’d left Jack’s, but he had no idea when his leg had stopped carrying him forward. He had no idea when his knees hit the snowy ground. He had even less of an idea of what was happening.

The last thing he remembered before he passed out was the snow falling, and feeling only the cold and misery that had followed him to where he laid.

Eric wasn’t aware he was warm until he could hear a quiet voice begging for a miracle. The next sound was a crack from a fire. He heard the distant tolling of the bells. The noises were confusing. The sounds he had heard before he had passed out had been those of nature, but the ones now were fully human. Especially the voice, which he tried to tune into, even as he struggled to open his eyes.

“...please let him open his eyes. I’ve never asked for anything as much as I am asking for this miracle right now. I never knew how much I loved him until he had left. I can’t lose him like this. Please, let there be a miracle on Christmas.” The voice was soft and familiar to Eric. He struggled to remember who it was. The words had been less than helpful, though he picked up on two things. That this someone loved him, and that it was Christmas.

Eric scrunched up his face, feeling as if his eyes were crusted shut. Blinking a couple of times as his eyelids slowly separated, he managed to see that he was in a room. The only light came from the roaring fireplace across from the bed, and out the window, he could see it was nighttime. The snow was still falling, and Eric had to wonder how he made it here.

The man who had been speaking was framed from behind by the flames, so it took some time for Eric to see his face. It took a bit longer for Eric to remember who it was. His mind was still thawing from its ordeal, and Eric took his time just letting his eyes wash over the man’s face. He had his eyes closed and his hands clasped loosely, and the prayer that he repeated over and over again seemed to whisper from his mouth subconsciously. Eric wondered how long he had been saying it.

Eric had to swallow a few times before he felt his voice would work. He looked to the man at his side and pondered what he should say. An apology? Probably. But the lines he heard from his mouth bounced around inside Eric’s mind, and he knew exactly what he should say, now that he was given a second chance.

“Jack,” His voice came out barely above a whisper, but it was loud enough that Jack’s eyes shot open. He looked at Eric with unabashed hopefulness, and Eric’s heart twinged with despair that he had caused whatever sadness Jack was going through. 

“Eric, you came back to me.” Jack looked at him so softly that Eric wanted so desperately to kiss him that he struggled to move. He had only managed to push weakly at the bed with his hand before Jack was at his side, gently pushing him down. “Hey, hey slow down. It’s a miracle you were even alive at all, you know. Rest, recover.”

“Jack, I--” Eric searched Jack’s face searching for something he had already found. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s ok. I know why you left. Rayne told me what she had said.” Jack softly reached over and stroked his head, and Eric managed to reach his hand out weakly, cupping Jack’s face. He froze under the touch, but continued to stroke Eric’s hair.

“I never wanted to leave, but I couldn’t stay… I was afraid you would believe them over me.” Eric took a shuddering breath and stroked Jack’s cheek with his thumb. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.”

Jack stopped and leaned a little closer to Eric’s face, his eyes roaming, looking for something. He seemed to have found it, because he smiled softly and mirrored Eric, placing a hand to Eric’s cheek, wiping away a tear Eric hadn’t known he’d shed.

“I love you too.” He leaned even closer, and Eric eagerly met him halfway. The kiss was sweeter than anything he had ever had before, and he missed it as soon as it was gone. Jack looked lovingly at him, “Merry Christmas. Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope y'all enjoyed. If you did, leave a kudos, leave a comment.


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